


Joji Keeper of Secrets

by Thiebes



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Background characters - Freeform, Friendship, Gossip, Love Confessions, Secrets, background Silverflint - Freeform, grief counseling, pirate therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thiebes/pseuds/Thiebes
Summary: He didn’t speak, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear. And hear he did. Everything. From everyone
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	1. To those who know how to listen

Joji was a man of few words.

An understatement more apt could not have been made. He never spoke, actually. He had taken a vow of silence years ago, as a young man. A lifetime ago, it seemed, and it probably was. He had never intended to be a pirate. But he supposed that few of them really had.

He didn’t speak, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear. And hear he did. Everything. From everyone. He was the keeper of secrets on the Walrus, and they all had secrets. They couldn't seem to keep away. Anyone in his vicinity seemed to let their guard down around him, his silence a reassurance to them, one that loosened their lips and opened their hearts. Sometimes the stories they told were just petty grievances of life on a ship, quarrels and love spats. But sometimes they were deep truths, stories of the lifetimes of haunted men. He didn’t begrudge any of them for coming to him. In fact, he rather treasured this trusted confidence that he shared with the men that he fought plundered with. It was a way he could connect with the men, despite never being able to share any stories of his own. It also had the benefit of distracting him from his own past.

Today, he was holding an audience with the master of stories himself, John Silver. He never knew whether the stories he told among the men were true. He had an inkling, with the way Silver's mouth curled into a smirk every time he began one of them. The lilting tone of his voice when he wanted to amp up the drama of the telling. But alone with Joji, Silver allowed himself space to breathe, to sigh, and to knit his brows in confusion when he contemplated the motives of their captain. Because more often than not, that was the subject of discussion when Silver came to him. Bafflement at his own feelings about Flint.

“and then he looked at me like _that_ , and I couldn’t remember what I was originally going to say,” Silver went on, staring at his hands. His index finger tapped lightly on the side of the barrel on which he was perched, a tick that Joji by now recognized as annoyance.

Joji simply smiled at him knowingly. For all the hot air Silver had been spewing about not caring about anyone, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking about the captain. He had seen this before. THe lack of women on the account never stopped men from yearning. He was becoming alarmingly proficient at spotting the signs.

“ I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” Silver says with narrowed eyes.

_I think you do._ His expression saying all that he needed to. Silver rolled his eyes, but sighed a concession of the point.

“Good talk,” Silver says, laying a hand on Joji’s shoulder before rising to his feet and taking his leave.


	2. Of whom the devil speaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crew Therapy: Flint Edition

Everything today was about Flint. 

DeGroot: “Does he even care about the integrity of the ship? I don’t know how much more abuse she can take.”

Billy: “He’s brilliant, but such an asshole.”

Gates: “If i had a coin for every time he lost his temper, i’d buy my own island and be rid of this lot.” 

Dufresne: “ He’s up to something, and I don’t like it. “

Silver: “It’s like he sees right through me and there’s nothing there.” 

Joji watched the captain curiously as he stood at the quarterdeck. He knew that the men admired Flint for his prowess and tenacity in battle, despite his harsh demeanor and indifference towards the crew. He had sailed with this man for nearly a decade, but still knew so little about him. The man was an enigma, a tightly wound persona constructed to keep people at arm’s length. But those constructions are difficult to maintain, and wear on a person if held too long. He wondered lately if he had started to see through the cracks. 

There was a fine line between fearful respect and resentment. Flint had courted it dangerously as of late. Seafaring men had a way of sensing each other, their moods like schools of fish being swayed one way or another by consensus. The “dry months” had taken their toll on the crew’s patience with him. They had worried that his resolve was slipping. But then he had revealed his secrets, that those fruitless hauls of late had had their purpose after all. He had survived a mutiny, and rekindled the men’s spirits at the same time. But the veneer was thin. Joji could sense it in the air. The unrest remained in the hearts of the crew while they waited to see if those promises were merely hot air.


	3. To those awash with grief, let us give comfort

There was a somber note to the air tonight. since the sun had gone down and the wind whisked away the heat of the day from the ship. It tugged at Joji’s hair as he sat across from Joshua. He hadn’t brought a lantern, so all he could see of him was the moonlight reflecting off the textured scars on his arms, and the glow of his eyes in the night. Joji had known this man for many years. He would count Joshua as one of the few in this world he would call a true brother and friend. It was hard to see his eyes so downcast. 

He waited with him, knowing that words did not always come easy, but nor were they necessary. The man was grieving. And so he sat with him, two pirates on the churning sea, sharing the silence between them like a blanket. 

Eventually Joshua looks up from his contemplations. He exhales a broken breath, his eyes swimming. Joji holds space for him as his shoulders shake, and he begins to openly weep. The man who fashioned himself a father to their little group of ex-slaves and warriors, the head of their family within the crew, was gone. 

“Mosiah,” he whispered into the night, followed by a prayer in his native tongue. It echoed the prayers they had chanted at the small, private funeral they had held for him. 

There was never any lack of loss, in this life of piracy. The men would wake every day with the knowledge that they may not lay their heads down again by nightfall. It was a simple truth, known to all who braved the treachery of the sea and spat in the face of civilization. But it did nothing to quell the unending pain of it. They were still human, after all. 

Eventually Joshua’s body calmed, his eyes having emptied their tears. He sat back against the dark wood of the ship, sighing deeply. And Joji was still there. 

Joji pressed a hand to his heart, and the other on Joshua’s shoulder. Joshua nods and says,

“Thank you, my friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> More stories from the crew to come! 
> 
> I'll add more tags as they become relevant


End file.
